It's A Small World After All
by drey'auc475
Summary: Jack is in the service of Davy Jones, and once again surrounded by the Undead. He has to get Jones’ Heart back, or loose everything he has… and has found once again. Chapters 13, 14 & 15 new
1. Welcome To The Family, Sparrow

**Title:** It's A Small World After All…  
**Author:** Drey'auc475  
**PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN 2: DEAD MAN'S CHEST  
****Rating:** T  
**Spoilers:** COTBP and DMC  
**Genre: **Action/Adventure/Romance  
**Setting:** After Dead Man's Chest  
**Summary:** Jack is in the service of Davy Jones, and once again surrounded by the Undead. He has to get Jones' Heart back, or loose everything he has… and had found once again.  
**A/N:** this is a new story that I have started. I hope you like it.

-----Prologue-----  
This story starts with fog. We last saw Captain Jack disappear in an un-winnable battle with the Kraken aboard his ship the _Black Pearl_. His ship has since been devoured, in a sense, by the sea monster. This story takes part after the ship was sunk.

-----Welcome to the Family, Sparrow-----  
The _Flying Dutchman_ sailed slowly through the blinding fog that surrounded her. She glided smoothly through the waters at a tenth of her best speed. Aboard her, on the decks, her crew scurried about, pulling ropes, manning sails.

Up on the quarter deck, two figures stood by the helm, watching and waiting. A man with the eyes of a bird would be able to see through the fog and make out the shape of the _Dutchman_'s captain, the legendary man whose name brought chills to every sailor's bones. Davy Jones. His tentacles quivered in anxiousness, as he waited. The figure, standing two feet behind him, laid a gentle hand on his arm. He glanced back at them and flexed his claw.

This other person was tall and slender, and the sharp-eyed man who observed would see that the figure was that of a woman. The Observer would ask himself what a woman was doing aboard the _Flying Dutchman_, the most dreaded pirate ship on the seas. Her name was Olivia.

Her dark hair fluttered on the wind, and the skirt of the pale blue gown she wore whipped about. She too, seemed quite anxious. She twisted about a worn linen handkerchief in her barnacle-free hands. This was perhaps the most remarkable thing about this woman. Her skin, pale in the dim, ghostly light of the fading day, was free of barnacles, shells or lichen that seemed to grow on every inch of the ship, even the crew.

A disturbance in the water caught her and the captain's attention. They moved to the port-side of the ship. The water was littered with hundreds of pieces of timber, rope and sail. Olivia watched as the top half of the mast floated past, with the _Pearl_'s Jolly Roger still clinging to it. The disturbance happened again. It was hard to pick it, because anyone would have thought it to be a barrel rolling about on the swell. Only one who has seen it many times before knows how to notice it.

A battered, brown tentacle broke the surface of the water and weaved up through the foam and debris that it had caused. It snaked over to Jones and he ran a barnacled hand over it, caressing it. He smiled proudly at the tentacle and it gave a smug wiggle. Jones leaned over the balustrade and looked down into the water. The woman stayed a foot or two away from the railing. She had seen it many times.

A shape broke the water near the hull of the ship, and from it came the monstrous, gaping maw of the Kraken. It spurted water from its jaws and the pungent stench of its breath spread like a poisonous gas cloud. A mere mortal would be reduced to a choking, terrified mass, their eyes tearing and their legs trebling. But the crew were greatly unaffected by the odor.

The ship lurched a little as the massive creature pushed its mouth out of the water a little further. Jones watched intently as another damaged tentacle reached into its own mouth and fastened around something. Slowly the tentacle began to rise again, slower than it normally would, due to several raw wounds that had been inflicted in its attack of the _Pearl_.

Olivia stepped closer to the railing as the tentacle reached their height. The tentacle extended over the deck and dropped its burden onto the ship.

She dashed forwards, gathering her skirts and knelt over the figure, her face etched with concern.

It was a man, a man she had known long ago. His battered brown coat was covered in the slaver from the Beast. The slaver would have eventually eaten away the flesh on his bones, had he still been among the living. It coated his face, his arms, and his clothing. In fact, it was the only thing that had kept his hat on his head. The infamous Captain Jack Sparrow lay unconscious on the quarter deck of the _Flying Dutchman_, while Davy Jones glared down at him.

"Welcome to the family, Jack Sparrow," he said, maliciously. The few crew members around them snickered. All those, but one. A lone pirate, with a brand new barnacle growing on his left cheek, stood staring at the man on the deck with no emotion. This was Bootstrap Bill. An age old friend of Sparrow's, and he was saddened indeed, to see him lying there under the gaze of Davy Jones.

The captain turned to Olivia. "Get him cleaned up, and bring him to my cabin when he wakes up," he barked.

She ducked her head at him. "Yes, Captain."

He knelt down closer to Sparrow and gripped the man's face in his hand. "I will make you pay, Sparrow, and you will not get a moment's rest!" once again the crew sniggered. Olivia tensed slightly.

Jones' eyes darted up to her. She ducked her head down again. Fire burned in the old pirate's eyes and he stood and stormed off the quarter deck. She exhaled with relief. No matter how long she had been on this ship, she was still afraid of Davy Jones. His moods could change like no one else's.

Olivia stood and took a half step away from Sparrow. "You two," she called to two of the crew who were mopping the deck. "Take him to my cabin, now." They dropped their mops instantly and lifted Sparrow by his arms and dragged him down the stairs and below deck. Bootstrap stood nearby, and she turned to him.

"Take care of him, Bill," she whispered to him, her face etched with concern.

"Yes, Mistress," Bootstrap replied as he followed them down the stairs. Olivia turned away from the railing and ascended the stairs onto the Poop deck. She twisted the handkerchief in her hands again and gazed out over the ocean. Three crewmembers in a long boat, were now rowing around the wreckage with a net, so as to drag the pieces of the _Pearl_ together so that they could be salvaged. Softly, she began to sing.

Every member of the crew paused in their jobs to listen to her sad and morose song. There were some legends amongst pirates, sailors and the like, that every time a sailor perished, or drowned, those nearby would hear a sad, ghostly song, sang by a woman aboard a ship, filled with the ghosts of sailors that had died at sea.

As she sang above deck, below, in the captain's cabin, Davy Jones swayed to the song as it drifted in through his open window port. It didn't cheer him – far from it in fact. But it comforted him to know that someone else on the ship felt as he did, for the woman that broke his heart.

Finally the notes of the song came to their end and Olivia headed below deck. The crew returned to their duties and the _Flying Dutchman_ vanished into the fog.

-----XXX-----  
Please tell me what you think…


	2. A Waste Of Time

**Title:** It's A Small World After All…  
**Author:** Drey'auc475  
**PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN 2: DEAD MAN'S CHEST  
****Rating:** T  
**Spoilers:** COTBP and DMC  
**Genre: **Action/Adventure/Romance  
**Setting:** After Dead Man's Chest  
**Summary:** Jack is in the service of Davy Jones, and once again surrounded by the Undead. He has to get Jones' Heart back, or loose everything he has… and has found once again.  
**A/N:** I LOVE JOHNNY DEPP and I love _Pirates_, but I shall never own them (BOO HOO!)

-----A Waste of Time-----  
Olivia closed the door to her spacious cabin softly behind her. She quickly surveyed the room.

Her large ornate bed was in the middle of the room, a chest at its end. To the side was a handsome closet, procured by Davy Jones himself. Next to this was a wash basin, a large jug and a screen behind which one could change.

On the other side of the bed was a grand piano, secured to the floor by barnacles, the only barnacles in the room. Save for those on Bootstrap, of course.

He stood near the wash basin, filling it with cold water. Hot water didn't exist on a ghost ship that could submerge itself at will.

Olivia walked to the bed and sat on the edge. She leant closer to the figure who lay, unmoving. She pushed back some of the hair on Jack Sparrow's forehead. She sighed.

"Thirteen years," she muttered to herself. "Thirteen years, no more, was all I could buy him."

Bootstrap glanced up at her. "It was all you could do, Olivia. The Captain would have it no other way. You tried."

Olivia sighed again and stood up. She began pacing furiously. She kicked the chest at the end of the bed. It achieved little, and only gave her a bruised toe. She hoped around on one foot for a moment while biting her bottom lip to stifle the cry she would have uttered. Bootstrap watched, wisely deciding to remain silent. The Mistress did tend to have a violent temper, as some of the crew could verify. Those that had survived coming under her blade, that was.

She stomped around behind the changing screen and stepped out of the pale blue gown. In its place she donned black pantaloons, a loose white shirt, high boots and a thick leather belt and scabbard. She whipped a strip of red velvet cloth from her pocket and tied her long hair back with it.

She rolled up her sleeves and sat on the bed again. Bootstrap carried over the basin and set it down on top of the chest. He stood behind Olivia and looked down at his old friend.

"It was worth it," he murmured, "those extra years. He achieved quite a few things, I hear."

"But he wasn't captain of the _Pearl_ for long at all. That was all he wanted. From what you told me, there was a mutiny on the way to Isla de la Muerta. He only managed to get her back recently."

"Yes," Bootstrap agreed. "But at least he was alive…"

A look of great sadness passed over Olivia's face. "It just seems like such a waste."

Bootstrap laid a hand on her shoulder. "It was all you could do." And with that, he left her alone with Jack.

Olivia sighed and drew a finger gently across his forehead. "Oh, Jack," she whispered. She gently undid the buttons of his shirt and began to wash the slime off his skin.

-----XXX-----  
More to come, please tell me what you think…


	3. The Goddess Of War

**Title:** It's A Small World After All…  
**Author:** Drey'auc475  
**PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN 2: DEAD MAN'S CHEST  
****Rating:** T  
**Spoilers:** COTBP and DMC  
**Genre: **Action/Adventure/Romance  
**Setting:** After Dead Man's Chest  
**Summary:** Jack is in the service of Davy Jones, and once again surrounded by the Undead. He has to get Jones' Heart back, or loose everything he has… and has found once again.  
**A/N:** I LOVE JOHNNY DEPP and I love _Pirates_, but I shall never own them (BOO HOO!)

-----The Goddess of War-----  
Tia Dalma led the remaining bewildered crew of the _Pearl_ and a smug-looking Captain Barbossa and his undead monkey along a dark path through the swamps around her house. They traveled for nearly an hour before the marshes began to thin and they reached a rocky bay.

The witch-woman led them around to the far side of the bay, where a small ship was moored. She stopped and turned to the crew.

"To save Captain Jack, you will need a ship dat can carry you to the end of dee eart'… and beyond," she hummed. Next to her, Barbossa was practically trembling with excitement, anxious to be back on the seas. The monkey on his shoulder seemed to have picked up on his mood, and was jumping up and down and screeching. Barbossa seemed mostly ignorant to its behavior. Tia Dalma could see that it was getting to the boy, Turner, and his girly.

Tia Dalma walked them down to the mooring lines of the ship.

"She doesn't look like much," Turner said."

"Aye," Tia Dalma cooed. "Don't let her appearance be foolin' ye. She will get ye to where ye need to be." She reached up and pulled on his shoulder until his ear was close to her mouth.

"You be bringin' back Captain Jack, and I be givin' ye a special treat…" the boy raised his eyebrows at her, and a very disturbed look passed over his face as she rolled her tongue over her spotted lips. Turner took a few steps away from her, then ran off to help the rest of the crew ready the ship for sailing.

Barbossa remained at her side.

"Am I to believe, that we are to take this sad little ship and sail where no living soul has gone before, to rescue the doomed captain and his doomed ship?"

"Aye," Tia Dalma replied simply. "Dee _Bellona_ shall take you dere. Let _her_ guide _you_."

"Arrr, _Bellona_, the goddess of War…" Barbossa turned, but the witch-woman had already disappeared into the marshes.

"Well, this is the pits," Elizabeth Swann whispered to Gibbs as they coiled the ropes on the deck. Will stood nearby, attempting to trim the sails with Pintel and Ragetti. "We're trusting this manic pirate captain! Besides shouldn't he be dead?"

Gibbs shrugged. Elizabeth turned to Will who mimicked Gibbs' movement. Elizabeth grumbled to herself.

Not long later, they were set to sail and Barbossa guided the ship out of the rocky bay and out onto the open waters.

-----XXX-----  
Hey thanks to those who have been reading and reviewing. Sorry this chapter is so short, and it was probably a bit boring, but I promise, there is more to come. Thought I should add Will and Elizabeth in at this point is all. Please keep the comments coming!


	4. Where Am I?

**Title:** It's A Small World After All…  
**Author:** Drey'auc475  
**PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN 2: DEAD MAN'S CHEST  
****Rating:** T  
**Spoilers:** COTBP and DMC  
**Genre: **Action/Adventure/Romance  
**Setting:** After Dead Man's Chest  
**Summary:** Jack is in the service of Davy Jones, and once again surrounded by the Undead. He has to get Jones' Heart back, or loose everything he has… and has found once again.  
**A/N:** I LOVE JOHNNY DEPP and I love _Pirates_, but I shall never own them (BOO HOO!)

-----"Where am I?"-----  
Olivia was playing an old, sad tune on her piano. It was an old song which she had learnt when she was a child growing up with her sister in England. It was about an old pirate captain who fell in love with a beautiful Incan woman who was betrothed to the chief of the village.

She looked over at Jack, asleep under the covers of her bed and sighed. She returned her full attention back to the piano. The song was reaching its crescendo and Olivia let herself get lost in it. She could see in her minds eye, the pirate captain facing the chief in a deadly battle over the woman. She could feel the chief's fury. Finally, the climax came, and Olivia imagined the victorious pirate sailing away into the sunset on his ship with his Incan prize.

When the tune finally finished, Olivia let her fingers sit still and gently closed the cover on the piano. She stood up, pulled the strip of cloth from her hair and went and sat on the bed next to Jack again. She reached for his hand and twisted one of his rings around his finger. She held his hand gently and let his palm rest on hers. She caressed the top of his hand with her other hand. Her skin was pale in comparison to his dark, Caribbean tan. She had never known of his origins, about his family. When she left with him it hadn't really been something that was at the front of her mind. She guessed that there would be more time for her to ask those questions now.

She sighed again and leant in closer to him. She studied his face, his lips, his nose, all the things she had missed about him. She caressed his forehead lightly, eliciting a slight frown from him. She paused and smiled. This meant he was waking up.

"Jack," she whispered, touching his cheek. "Jack, it's time to wake up." His brows furrowed and his eyes flickered. His mouth formed a tight line and he rolled away from her, groaning. He tried to bury himself further under the covers. She giggled, remembering how he used to do that whenever she tried to wake him up early enough to see the sunrise.

"Jack!" she whined and shuffled closer to him, trying to tickle him under the blankets. He rolled back over and swatted her hands away. "C'mon Jack, wake up!"

He frowned again at hearing her voice. A full five second later, his eyes flew open, filled with confusion. Olivia smiled warmly at him, and he drew back a little, trying to get a better look at her.

"Livvie?" he croaked out. "Livvie? Is 'at really you?" He lifted his hand to touch her face and she brought her own up to grasp it.

"Yes, Jack," she whispered. "It's really me."

If it was possible, he looked sad, happy and confused all at once. He pulled himself up into a sitting position, his hand still on her face. His rough fingers stroked her cheek.

"Livvie," he sighed. Olivia swallowed down a sob as she scooted closer to him until their faces only inches apart. He brought his other hand up to frame her face. His dark brown eyes stared into her teary grey ones. And finally not being able to hold off any longer, he darted forwards and kissed her. She gasped into his mouth, marveling at the taste of it. A taste she hadn't experienced in so long. She deepened the kiss, wanting more. Jack moved his hands around her neck, and pushed them up into her hair as she slipped her arms around his neck. Their hands began to wander after that.

She had begun pushing him backwards onto the bed when there was a knock on the door. She gasped, pulled herself away and glanced up at the glass panel in the door. Silhouetted there was Bootstrap.

"Bugger," she whispered and looked back down at Jack. He looked quite disappointed and was watching her expectantly. She ducked her head down to his and planted a soft kiss on his lips. She giggled lightly when he tried to deepen it. She touched the side of his face before standing up to go to the door. She checked her appearance quickly, doing the few buttons up that Jack had managed to get undone, before opening the door.

Bootstrap stood there, with Jack's boots, jacket and hat which he had gone to clean. He raised an eyebrow upon seeing her messy hair and loose collar. She swallowed in embarrassment as he stepped into the room. Bootstrap looked over at the bed and saw Jack pulling himself back up into a sitting position and smiled.

"Good to see you up, Jack," he said, setting Jack's things on the chest at the end of the bed.

"Heya, Bootstrap," Jack said cautiously, eyeing Bootstrap and the open door. Olivia closed it and pulled a curtain across the glass.

Jack watched her as she sat on the bed again. His eyes flicked to Bootstrap, then back to her, then back to Bootstrap. "Jack?" she said.

He opened his mouth, preparing to say something, stopped, darted his eyes from Bootstrap to Olivia again, then leant toward Olivia and said; "Where am I?"

Olivia smiled at Jack, remembering his eccentric ways. "You're on the _Flying Dutchman_," she said simply.

"Right…" He looked between the two of them again. "How'd I get 'ere?"

Olivia looked hesitant before saying; "The Kraken ate you. And the _Pearl_."

She watched him intently, waiting for his reaction. He raised his eyebrows, looking quite surprised. "Oh," he said. And that was it. No screaming, no shouting, like she had seen many times before. Just simple acceptance.

It was one thing that always fascinated Olivia about Jack: his acceptance of his situation, his life and moving on. He was always thinking ahead, taking everything in around him before planning his next move. It's what made him a fantastic pirate. It also helped that he was an incredibly smart man.

"So," he ventured, "You've been here for thirteen years?"

"Yes," Olivia answered. "Thirteen long years."

"My ship?" he asked tentatively.

Olivia glanced at Bootstrap. "The _Pearl _will be rebuilt from the pieces, and put into commission as a part of the Captain's new fleet."

"You mean Dav–"

Olivia dashed forwards and put her hand over Jack's mouth. "Please," she whispered, glancing up at the ceiling then at the door, "don't say his name on this ship." Bootstrap walked over to the door, and pulled the curtain aside a little.

"Why?" Jack asked when Olivia had removed her hand.

"No one dares. He hears it; he hears a lot of things on this ship…"

"Everything?"

"Not everything, but enough."

"Oh."

"He wants to see you," Olivia said quietly. "He wants his heart back."

Jack grimaced.

"Jack, all you have to do is give it back. He'll probably spare you."

"And what if," he said, twisting his hands together, "what will he do to me if I… say, don't 'ave it?"

Olivia gaped at him for a second. She opened and closed her mouth a few times. "What?"

"I did 'ave it. But… it got stolen… from my jar of dirt," Jack said, somewhat lamely.

Olivia dropped her head into her hands while Bootstrap shook his head. "What?" Jack said.

Olivia sighed and looked up at Jack. She said, steadily; "If you don't have it and someone has stolen it, then the Captain won't be very happy at all, Jack. It means that he is now at the mercy of whoever holds that heart. The oceans will be under their control."

Jack had the decency to look a little ashamed of himself.

"I'm afraid to say, Jack, that the Captain will not be happy at all, if he doesn't kill you straight off. You'll be lucky to be able to breath."

At that moment there were several thumps on the floor about them. Their heads snapped up. Jack turned to Olivia.

"It's time to go see him."

-----XXX-----  
Oh, the suspense! Please review and tell me what you think. Up next, the crew on the _Bellona_.


	5. It's Alright To Feel Grief

**Title:** It's A Small World After All…

**Author:** Drey'auc475

**PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN 2: DEAD MAN'S CHEST**

**Rating:** T

**Spoilers:** COTBP and DMC

**Genre: **Action/Adventure/Romance

**Setting:** After Dead Man's Chest

**Summary:** Jack is in the service of Davy Jones, and once again surrounded by the Undead. He has to get Jones' Heart back, or loose everything he has… and had found once again.

**A/N:** I LOVE JOHNNY DEPP and I love _Pirates_, but I shall never own them (BOO HOO!)

-----It's Alright To Feel Grief-----

The _Bellona_ was heading for Tortuga on calm waters. Elizabeth was standing on the mid-deck, leaning on the railing and watching the sun set behind Tia Dalma's island. Dark and heavy rain clouds loomed over the island and she was glad to have gotten away before they got caught in the storm. She loved the sailing part of being a pirate, but didn't think that she could handle being caught in a storm.

She sighed and twirled a bit of cloth about in her fingers. She looked down at it. It was a piece of worn, old fabric, grey in colour and may have been white at one point in time. She had found it tucked into her pocket in the longboat on the journey to Tia Dalma's swamp hut and had since then tied it securely around her hand. It was the piece of cloth that Jack Sparrow had tied around his hand to hide the ugly black spot that had grown on his hand. She really had no idea as to how, or when, it had come to be in her pocket.

A sudden surge of guilt pierced her stomach and she bit down on her lip in attempt to stop the tears that were swelling in her eyes. She had betrayed him when he needed her the most. She had left him to die, to keep the Kraken occupied while the rest of them escaped.

She committed a lot of sins in those last few minutes on the _Pearl_ and nothing could undo them. She had betrayed the two men that she loved.

Loved… that was a strong word to use when describing Jack and Will. Sure, Elizabeth loved Will; of course she did. He had come to rescue her from Barbossa when they kidnapped her from Port Royal. He was kind, generous, caring, and handsome. He was a good man.

But then again, so was Jack. But in his heart, Jack was a pirate, and pirates only look out for themselves, as Jack had proven quite a few times in the last few weeks.

It had only been hours since the _Pearl_ had been taken under, and Elizabeth still felt that hollowness that they all did. She had seen a blank look on Will's face more than once since then, and knew that Jack had held a special place in his heart, too. Jack did seem to have that effect on people.

She wiped her cheeks furiously at the few tears that had managed to escape. She sniffled softly just as Mr Gibbs was walking past.

He stopped and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright, Miss Elizabeth?"

"Er, yes," she quickly replied. "Yes, yes, I'm fine."

Mr Gibbs gave her a sympathetic look. "It's alright to feel grief, Miss Elizabeth," he said. "I feel it too, ye know. Right here." He put a dirty fist to his chest, just over his heart. Elizabeth looked up at his with questioning eyes, and he nodded. "Aye, I feel it too."

She nodded and gave a tight smile. "Ye ain't alone," he said softly before heading back to work.

Elizabeth watched him go and then turned back to the sea. She sighed and walked along the rails and climbed the stairs that went up to the Poop deck. She looked out over the back end of the ship. Tia Dalma's island was barely visible on the horizon and the clouds looked even more menacing.

Elizabeth became so lost in her thoughts that she didn't hear Will come and stand next to her. He stood for a while watching her, trying to think of something to say. Confronting her about what he had seen between her and Jack on the _Pearl _would be a start. He cleared his throat experimentally, and she looked around at him, surprised.

He, himself, was surprised to find her cheeks tear stained and her eyes red. Every horrible word left his mind as he saw her lip tremble, and he raised his hands to cup her face. He wiped the tears from her cheeks, and pulled her into him. She immediately wrapped her arms around him, and cried into his shoulder.

"Oh, Will," she whispered, and he closed his eyes and held her head.

"Shhh," he whispered back. He began to rock her backwards and forwards.

"I just wish we had never left Port Royal…" she sobbed.

Will looked out to the darkening horizon and wished the same thing.

-----XXX-----

Thanks to all my loyal (and not so loyal) readers. I am liking these comments and reviews that this story is generating. Plenty more to come to all those hanging on. I currently don't have internet at home and I am finding it a bit annoying to have to submit these at work. But anyway, please R+R!


	6. A Matter of the ThumpThump

**Title:** It's A Small World After All…  
**Author:** Drey'auc475  
**PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN 2: DEAD MAN'S CHEST  
****Rating:** T  
**Spoilers:** COTBP and DMC  
**Genre: **Action/Adventure/Romance  
**Setting:** After Dead Man's Chest  
**Summary:** Jack is in the service of Davy Jones, and once again surrounded by the Undead. He has to get Jones' Heart back, or loose everything he has… and has found once again.  
**A/N:** I LOVE JOHNNY DEPP and I love _Pirates_, but I shall never own them (BOO HOO!)

-----A Matter of the Thump-Thump-----  
Olivia led Jack through the galley to Davy Jones' cabin. She paused before the door and looked back at him. He cringed as a cold, pungent breeze blew out from under the door.

He swallowed and reached for the door handle. He recoiled when he felt it was slimy and freezing cold. Olivia put a hand in the middle of his back, to reassure him, and he managed to get the door open without touching it too much. Olivia shook her head at him.

Olivia pushed him through the door and closed it behind her. The vaulted cabin was dark and damp, with barnacles covering almost every inch. Jones was stooping over his chart table, maneuvering a set of dividers around with one of his tentacles.

Jack seemed to have frozen near the door, so Olivia nudged him in his bottom with her boot to get him to move forward. He jumped forwards and looked back at her with a reproachful face.

"Ahhh," Jones sighed in his deep voice. "_Captain _Sparrow; nice to see you awake." He had not yet taken his eyes of the chart in front of him. Jack rocked backwards and forwards on his toes, very nervous.

Davy Jones set aside the dividers and stood, facing Jack with his 'hands' clasped loosely behind his back. He began to walk about the room.

"I am usually a forgivin' man, Jack," he began slowly. "I am usually easy to satisfy, and usually hard to anger." It did not escape Jack that Jones was using the word 'usually' quite often. He waited, with baited breath, for the explosion.

"I do not hate ye, Jack, but we did enter into a business arrangement some years ago." Jones glanced at Olivia, who stood a few feet behind Jack. "I would have been a happier man if you had accepted my offer thirteen years ago."

"Yes, your Captain-ness, Sir," Jack began. "But if you recall –"

Jones spoke over him, cutting him off but barely raising his voice. "Now, I am willin' to spare your miserable soul, because I am a good man. You and your _grand_ ship shall be put into service. You shall sail under my colours, hand over thirty per cent of your takings –"

"Well," Jack interrupted. "That sounds like a generous offer –"

"Only!" Jones barked. Jack stopped abruptly and jumped back a pace. "Only if you give back what's mine."

"Oh, that." Jack cleared his throat. "Well, that may be a little difficult."

Jones narrowed his eyes.

Jack grimaced. "I… don't exactly… 'ave it… anymore."

Jones' eyes widened, and his tentacles quivered. His claw flexed and opened and snapped closed several times. Each time, Jack jumped. Jones' other hand, the one with a slimy tentacle for an index finger, furled and reached for his sword.

Olivia saw this and, as quick as lightening, drew her sword, stepped in front of Jack and deflected Jones' blow just before it reached him. The clanging of metal rang through the room.

Jones whipped his sword away in disgust, and lunged at Olivia. He clasped his clawed hand around her neck and lifted her off the ground. She dropped her sword and tried to pull apart the claws at her throat.

"No!" Jack cried. "Alright! Alright! I don't have your stinkin' heart, but I think I know who does."

Jones' head whipped around to Jack, his tentacles making a horrible squishing sound. "Speak! Or she dies!"

"Ok! Ok." Jack thought quickly. If it hadn't been in his jar of dirt, then where could it possibly have gone? One of three people could have it. Turner would have destroyed it by now, Elizabeth was too girly to touch it, or… Norrington! Of course! He was at the long boat after Jack had put the heart in the jar. What if he had stolen the heart from the jar, and… he did take the chest, pretending to be the hero while the rest of them got away. Yes, he didn't want Will to destroy the heart, 'cause with it he could get his pardons. He wouldn't have given the heart up willingly. Jack fleetingly admired the old commodore; he truly was a pirate…

The sounds of Olivia's labored breathing drew Jack's attention back to the present moment.

"Norrington!" he cried. "Ex-commodore Norrington, of Port Royal, was wiff us when we went to Isla Cruces! He wanted your thump-thump so tha' he could give it to Cutler Beckett to get 'is life back!"

A fire flared in Jones' eyes when he heard the name Cutler Beckett but he let go of Olivia. She collapsed to the floor, choking for air, and Jones turned around and began pacing backwards and forwards.

Jack crouched down beside Olivia and lifted her head. She looked at him with questioning eyes. He shook his head slightly and pushed back her hair, and stroked her forehead for a moment.

"So," Jones hissed in a menacing tone. Jack helped Olivia to her feet. "You are saying that some low-life, exiled red-coathas my life-force and that he gave it to… _Cutler Beckett_… the commander of the East India Trading _Company_, the most feared pirate hunting organization in the _known world_, just so that he can live amongst _people_ again?"

"You make it sound bad when you say it like that –"

"IT IS BAD, YOU USELESS BARNACLE!" Jones stalked up to Jack and gripped him around his neck with his claw. He pulled him towards him so that their faces were inches apart.

"You _will_ get me my property back, Sparrow, or I'll not only take away your ship, I'll take away your heart." Jones did not gesture to Jack's chest, instead he traced a tentacle down Olivia's face. The meaning was clear to Jack. He had gone for thirteen years without Olivia by his side, and he didn't think he could live a lifetime without her. That's what seemed to be in it for him now.

"Ok, Ok," he managed to choke out of his constricted throat. "I'll get your bloody thump-thump back!"

"Oh, I know you will, Sparrow, or I'll hunt you down, and there will be no-where on the sea, or land, where you can hide."

-----XXX-----  
hey new chap up. more to come. please review!


	7. Intimacy

**Title:** It's A Small World After All…  
**Author:** Drey'auc475  
**PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN 2: DEAD MAN'S CHEST  
****Rating:** T  
**Spoilers:** COTBP and DMC  
**Genre: **Action/Adventure/Romance  
**Setting:** After Dead Man's Chest  
**Summary:** Jack is in the service of Davy Jones, and once again surrounded by the Undead. He has to get Jones' Heart back, or loose everything he has… and has found once again.  
**A/N:** I LOVE JOHNNY DEPP and I love _Pirates_, but I shall never own them (BOO HOO!)

-----Intimacy-----  
Will pushed open the door to Elizabeth's cabin and entered silently. She lay there, sleeping soundly under the covers. He watched her for a moment, before setting down the plate of bread and the bowl of stew had had brought.

After Elizabeth had stopped crying, Will had brought her inside to her cabin. She was weak from crying so much, and Will had helped her to get into bed. He had pulled the covers up and kissed her lightly on the forehead before leaving her to sleep. It was now well after dark, and she didn't look to be waking up soon. Will sat on the chair by the bed and watched her sleep.

Normally they might have used their privacy for more… intimate means seeing as they had been apart for the last few weeks, but given the circumstances, Will didn't think that either of them would have been able to feel the right feelings. Will had felt so, so angry when he had seen Elizabeth and Jack together. And he had every right to. There was Jack, trying to steal his girl. Or was it the other way around. Will couldn't be certain. He recalled how, before Jack fell off the fort in Port Royal, he had said that things wouldn't have worked out between him and Elizabeth. When Will had asked her about it, she had laughed and said that Jack was being Jack.

Will didn't know what that meant now. It could have held several meanings, and what Will had always feared was what he saw that day on the _Pearl_. That Elizabeth and Jack had been… intimate.

Everytime he had seen Elizabeth since that day, he had wanted to talk about it, but he always lost his nerve. Maybe an explanation would be a good start. He was still angry, and it still hurt, deep in his chest, but every time he felt angry enough to say anything he found he couldn't. He trusted Elizabeth, and he had trusted Jack. But now, he felt that he didn't know either of them anymore.

And suddenly he felt that he didn't want to. He stood up and opened the door. With one last look back at Elizabeth's sleeping form he closed the door softly behind him.

Once on deck, he threw a few things into a bag; a rope, a leather bag for water, some food, and a torch, flint and kindling. He threw these into a long boat, and managed to lower it into the water by himself. Once free of the ship, he rowed, in the direction of land. Any land. He'd had enough of the ocean. Enough of pirates…

-----XXX-----

Please offer ideas for chapters to come, I'm running low.


	8. Passing Deja Vu

**Title:** It's A Small World After All…  
**Author:** Drey'auc475  
**PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN 2: DEAD MAN'S CHEST  
****Rating:** T  
**Spoilers:** COTBP and DMC  
**Genre: **Action/Adventure/Romance  
**Setting:** After Dead Man's Chest  
**Summary:** Jack is in the service of Davy Jones, and once again surrounded by the Undead. He has to get Jones' Heart back, or loose everything he has… and has found once again.  
**A/N:** I LOVE JOHNNY DEPP and I love _Pirates_, but I shall never own them (BOO HOO!)

-----Passing Déjà Vu-----  
"Norrington?" Olivia asked once they were all back in her brightly lit cabin. "Jack, are you sure?"

"Pretty sure," Jack replied as he paced about the cabin. He was twisting his hands together, pausing only now and then to look out of the grimy windows. Bootstrap was leaning against the door watching Jack pace. "If Young William had taken it, Jones would already be dead by now, and you would be free." He looked pointedly at Bootstrap who shrugged. "And I don't think that his missus would have taken it; a dainty bird like 'er." He said this last part with a sarcastic smile on his face.

Bootstrap looked up. "Will's married?"

"Betrothed, actually. To a bloody two-face, wrench!" He kicked the chest at the end of Olivia's bed, in much the same fashion that she had earlier. He cursed loudly and hopped about on one foot, before tripping on the rug on the floor and falling over, face first.

A thoughtful look was on Olivia's face. "So," she murmured. "He made it to Commodore after all…"

"What?" Jack said as he pushed himself off the floor. "Don't tell me you know Norrington!"

She stopped looking thoughtful and looked at Jack. "Yeah. His family lived a few houses from my family when I was living in England. We were meant to be betrothed at one stage." Jack drew his eyebrows together in disgust. "But he seemed to get over it once I became a pirate."

"Oh," Jack said. "Small world." Olivia nodded. She already knew this. "So," he said as he sat down on the bed next to her. "What happens now?"

"Well, as the Captain promised, you and the _Pearl_ will be drafted under his command. He will get to call himself 'Commodore' and you will get stay Captain of the _Black Pearl_." Jack nodded, solemnly.

"I'm gettin' a bit o' Déjà vu 'ere."

Olivia nodded in agreement. "It's what he always wanted."

Jack nodded again. He thought back to when he, Olivia and Bootstrap were first sailing on the _Pearl_. The _Pearl _was considered to be the most feared pirate ship on the seas. Even then she was considered a ghost ship. She was so fast that any ship that saw her in the distance was sure that she was flying. She'd come upon settlements and other ships so fast, and then just as soon as they had gotten what they came for, vanish just as quickly. Jack was considered by most who knew him to be the best pirate captain in the known world. Then, one day, one of the crew went overboard, and seemed to have gotten take up by Davy Jones and his _real_ ghost ship. That's when Jones learnt of the _Pearl_ and her captain. He had been searching the oceans for a ship that would be worthy enough for his new fleet. And surely enough he had found one.

Jack ended up being given the Black Spot by a passing sailor, and sure enough, the Kraken soon found him and his _Pearl_.

Jack shivered. Next to him, Olivia picked up on his mood and slipped her hand into his. He smiled gratefully at her.

"And what happens after that?" he asked.

"You'll probably have to pick a crew," Bootstrap said.

"Me?" Jack said jabbing himself in the chest.

Bootstrap shrugged again. "Some might be volunteers, and ask ye if they can join you. Others will be ones wanting to get away from the Captain, and beg you. Others might be old crew of yours – there are a few here that I know of."

"Really?" Jack asked.

"Also," Olivia added. "You won't be entirely free. You will still have to answer to Jones. And that's only after you find his… thump-thump."

Jack smirked at her. "Creative name, don't ya think?"

"Jack, this isn't a laughing matter," she said very seriously. "We have to find that Heart."

"I know, I know." Jack was all too aware of what would happen if he were to not get that heart back.

* * *

An hour later, Bootstrap left the cabin to go to the crew quarters. As he left he said that he too, would join Jack on the _Pearl_. Jack was grateful of this, seeing that he would have a friend on this voyage.

Jack turned to Olivia. "What 'bout you?" he asked, heart in throat. "Are you gonna come back to the _Pearl_?"

Olivia looked up at him. He could see in her eyes that it was what she desperately wanted. But he knew by the way that her expression changed, that it would not be happening. He hung his head.

"Jack, you know that I want to, with all my heart I want to. But I can't see _him_ letting me go. I may be able to talk to him, beg him to let me." She put her hand under his chin, and lifted his head so that their eyes met. "I have been waiting thirteen years for you, Jack, and I will not spend another day without you."

Jack felt his heart swell. He had missed the way that she did that to him. She was the only woman in the known world that could do that to him. Apart from the _Pearl_.

Jack leant in towards her, and pressed his lips to hers. She seemed to melt at his touch, and Jack curled her hair around his fingers. She toyed with his collar and buttons, as she wrapped her leg around his. A sharp thump came from the floor above, and they broke apart quickly.

Olivia sighed, and righted Jack's shirt. "There are quarters for you down the hall," she whispered. "Bootstrap has set them up just the way you like it."

Jack still had his hands tangled in her hair. "What's wrong with here?"

Olivia looked pained. "He won't allow it."

"How will _he _know?"

"Remember what I said before? About him hearing a lot on this ship?" Jack nodded. "Well, _that_ is one of the things he will hear."

"But –"

"Ja-ack!" she pleaded. "It's for your own good. If he were to find out that you were here all night, then you probably would die. There is no fraternizing on his ship." Jack looked about ready to argue, she placed a finger over his lips. "Jack, when we are on the _Pearl_, together, then I promise you a night neither of us will forget, but for now, please, be patient."

Jack squirmed on the spot for a moment, an unhappy expression on his face. Olivia knew from experience that Jack was not a very patient man.

Olivia pushed him out of her cabin and down the hall towards his own cabin. She opened the door for him and nudged him inside.

"Goodnight, Jack. I'll come and see you in the morning." She shut the door in his protesting face, and made her way back to her cabin. She lay on the unmade bed for a moment. She thought back again to the early days of when it was the three of them on the _Pearl _together. Oh, how she missed the way things were. Life was simple then, they were free. Now they were all servants to Davy Jones and his ghost ship.

* * *

AN: more to come, hopefully lots more. Still need more ideas for later chapters. Please keep reviewing and letting me know what you think. cheers!


	9. Just A Pawn

**Title:** It's A Small World After All…  
**Author:** Drey'auc475  
**PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN 2: DEAD MAN'S CHEST  
****Rating:** T  
**Spoilers:** COTBP and DMC  
**Genre: **Action/Adventure/Romance  
**Setting:** After Dead Man's Chest  
**Summary:** Jack is in the service of Davy Jones, and once again surrounded by the Undead. He has to get Jones' Heart back, or loose everything he has… and has found once again.  
**A/N:** I LOVE JOHNNY DEPP and I love _Pirates_, but I shall never own them (BOO HOO!)

-----Chapter 9 – Just a Pawn-----  
Lord Cutler Beckett stood gazing into the dying embers of the fireplace in his office. He cradled a fine crystal glass with a good deal of cognac left in the bottom. He took a small sip from the glass and glanced over his shoulder at his desk where his small chest of important papers sat. Inside that chest was the mutated, barnacle-encrusted, still beating heart of Davy Jones. In the silence of the room, Beckett could hear it beating…

He took a shuddering breath and a bigger sip of the brandy. He turned his back to the chest and continued to stare into the dying fire. He felt a tingling sensation in his toes and the hairs on the back of his neck, under his white wig, stuck up. He drained the rest of the cognac, and put the glass on a table by the door. His hands were shaking and he knocked the cup over after he set it down. It rolled along the table and smashed on the floor. He didn't notice, and walked over to his desk.

With trembling hands he slowly lifted the lid of the chest. There, in the candle-light, was the Heart, beating while it pumped air, not blood. Thump-thump… thump-thump, it went.

Beckett lifted his hand and wiped the cold sweat out of his eyes. His breathing was getting shallow. He slowly reached his hand into the chest and lifted the Heart out. He held it his palm for a moment, to afraid to do much else. It beat horribly in his palm. It was slimy, hard and covered in barnacles that were opening and closing on his fingers. As he held it, Beckett's face grew more and more disgusted.

Finally, he threw it back into the chest. He slammed the lid shut and put it in the deepest draw of his desk. When he thought he couldn't hear it anymore, he took a shaky breath. He glanced at his reflection in the full length mirror near the wall. His skin was pale and clammy, his collar too tight. He pushed his fingers into his scarf and tried to loosen it a little. He stood and went to the French doors that led to the balcony and pushed them open. He stood out under the stars, letting the cool, fresh air calm his nerves.

Cutler Beckett was a man who was not so easily frightened. If he was, then he would have never made it to lord. Nor leader of the East India Trading Company. There were few things in the known world that did scare him. One was his unnamed employer, the other being Davy Jones. He had faced him once in battle, many years ago and he was a great man to be feared.

Now he had Jones' fate in his hands. But it was not for him to decide. He would now have to take the Heart to his employer. This thought, once again sent chills down his spine.

Beckett was a man who knew what the right thing to do was. He was also a man who was powered by greed. An interesting combination. A little over a year ago, a man with no name had contacted him by letter in London, promising glory and riches to him, if he were to come under his employment. This man appealed to Beckett's desire to rid the ocean of the plague of piracy. He promised to help him rid the world of all those who call themselves pirates, make him noble and a powerful man. He was at first cautious and pretended that he wanted no part in it, when it was the thing that he desired the most. He was then visited by a woman. A woman that he had loved a long time ago. She told him that it was a very generous offer and that if he weren't to accept, then he would most likely not live out the year. With no other choice, Beckett agreed. He began receiving secret orders and instructions from his 'employer' and soon became a highly respected man and eventually made Lord. He was appointed commander of the East India Trading Company and dispatched around the world to establish a sense of control on the oceans. Then he was given his toughest and most challenging task yet. To find the Heart…

His employer, a powerful and cunning man, wanted the Heart of Davy Jones for himself. He knew that Jack Sparrow carried a compass that could lead him to it, so he had ordered Beckett to find it. This man had grand and sinister plans for the known world, Beckett knew. When this man got a hold of the Heart, then the Oceans would never be safe for folk again. Something was a-plot and Beckett truly did not like it one bit. He had an obligation to his fellow sailors to make sure that the oceans remained safe and free. But he also knew what would happen if he strayed from the path that his employer had set out for him. In gripping reality, Beckett was simply a pawn in the scheme of things.

Beckett sighed and returned to his office, locking the doors behind him. He took out a key and locked the draw of his desk. Wearily, he trudged up stairs to his bedroom, above his office. He unbuttoned his coat, set his wig on the stand next to the dresser and prepared himself for bed. He lay under the covers and stared at the high canopy of his elaborate bed. He tried to sleep, but was too afraid to close his eyes, lest the terror he felt took a hold of his imagination.

And so, he lay there, eyes wide open and let the cold sweat that beaded on his brow drip into his pillow.

-----XXX-----  
Chapter up! Please review. You all keep me sailing with your reviews. And if you could add some ideas, please do that too. Also if someone who's good with dialog could please help me out here, it would be very, very much appreciated.


	10. Nemesis

**Title:** It's A Small World After All…  
**Author:** Drey'auc475  
**PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN 2: DEAD MAN'S CHEST  
****Rating:** T  
**Spoilers:** COTBP and DMC  
**Genre: **Action/Adventure/Romance  
**Setting:** After Dead Man's Chest  
**Summary:** Jack is in the service of Davy Jones, and once again surrounded by the Undead. He has to get Jones' Heart back, or loose everything he has… and has found once again.  
**A/N:** I LOVE JOHNNY DEPP and I love _Pirates_, but I shall never own them (BOO HOO!)

-----Nemesis-----  
Not far from Lord Cutler Beckett's house, a block of apartments sat near the water. On the second floor of this building, a lamp burnt on the balcony. This lamp sat on a table. It was a fairly plan lamp, old and rusted, though, from being on the balcony constantly, exposed to the salty air. The flame inside it guttered as the cool breezes blew in off the ocean through a panel of glass that had fallen out. The wick had burnt down so far that the flame was in danger of going out. A hand reached forwards and adjusted the wick.

The ex-Commodore James Norrington sat, with his feet up on the table, gazing out onto the ocean. In one hand he held a half-empty bottle of rum, and with the other he turned the wheel on the side of the lamp. The flame grew brighter, and his whole face was illuminated.

He rolled his head back and gazed up at the stars above him. His appearance had certainly changed since he last sat on this balcony. His new gold-trimmed jacket was hung over the back of his chair, his shirt was loose about the collar and not tucked in, and he wore no image-defining wig like his ex-fellow sailors. He still wore his high boots, instead of the standard boots that the sailors of the Royal Navy wore. He was still unshaven and had no black velvet bow to tie back his long, unkempt hair, but a plain piece of cloth.

He took a swig from the rum bottle and set it on the table near his knee. He sighed and looked out to the harbour. Delivering the Heart of Jones' to Beckett had been enough for him to receive the letters of pardon that had been intended for Sparrow instead. Norrington had gotten his life back. Or as much as he had been permitted. He hadn't resumed his position as commodore, but that didn't really matter to him anymore. He had been made a captain instead, and had been given command of his own ship, a frigate. She sat in the harbour currently, the guardsman strutting about her deck with a lantern and a blunt sword.

The ship he had named _Nemesis_, a just name for what he had in mind. She wasn't much, but she was worthy, and Norrington had nothing bad to say about her. Her crew was fine and when properly manned she was very fast. Maybe as fast as Sparrow's _Pearl_.

Norrington curled his lip at the thought of the infamous pirate. Having his life back didn't seem like enough for Norrington. He still wanted revenge on Sparrow for taking it away from him in the first place. Being back in Port Royal with a full pardon from the King didn't stop the looks that people gave him in the streets. As he passed them, he would hear their whispers and think that his life still wasn't his.

Deep down, Norrington felt that his apartment, Port Royal, or even England wasn't his home anymore. That no place was his. He felt that he didn't fit into society anymore. He had no loyalties to anyone anymore, save for himself. He remembered telling Sparrow once that he served others and not only himself… Norrington knew in his heart that that didn't apply anymore. He had been away too long and had lost too much to ever go back to that kind of mentality.

Norrington sighed again, took another mouthful of rum and stood. He walked to the edge of the balcony and rested his elbows on the railing. He would never fit in here ever again, and nothing could change that…

* * *

A/N: hey. sorry i haven't updated this for a while, but i've gotten a bit preocupied with HOUSE. i just love it, don't you?. well, this is the last chapter that i've written in full, so the next one may be a while coming. i apologise in advance.


	11. Insurance

**Title:** It's A Small World After All…  
**Author:** Drey'auc475  
**PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN 2: DEAD MAN'S CHEST  
****Rating:** T  
**Spoilers:** COTBP and DMC  
**Genre: **Action/Adventure/Romance  
**Setting:** After Dead Man's Chest  
**Summary:** Jack is in the service of Davy Jones, and once again surrounded by the Undead. He has to get Jones' Heart back, or loose everything he has… and has found once again.  
**A/N:** I LOVE JOHNNY DEPP and I love _Pirates_, but I shall never own them (BOO HOO!)

-----Chapter 11 – Insurance-----  
Three thumps from the ceiling above Olivia's head broke into her thoughts. She was imagining what a great family she and Jack could have had by now. She should be a mother! She had every chance! But she gave it all up for a life of adventure, death and piracy.

She sighed as she rolled off the bed. She pulled her leather coat on against the cool that was setting in, as it did every night. She opened the door and strolled through the galley. A few of the crew were lingering there, throwing their dice and betting their years of service. Olivia played sometimes, against the crew, Bootstrap and occasionally against Jones. The wagers were never very serious, not as though she had much to loose, what with a lifetime of service.

She passed them just as they made a ruckus over one of them cheating. Olivia glanced at them and continued on to the kitchen, not that it was used much. She came across a pot over the fire. It held the remained of that evenings stew. She dipped her finger in and tasted it. Not bad, and smelt worse than it tasted. She took two bowls off the bench and dipped them into the mixture, grabbed a pair of spoons and headed back out. She went up the stairs to the Captain's quarters, and knocked twice. The door opened of its own accord and she entered.

"Come in, my dear," Jones called. He was sitting at his grand pipe organ. As she entered the room, he scooped up the clockwork silver locket which he had been listening to and tucked it into his pocket. Olivia knew it to play a simple, gentle melody that reminded Jones of the woman that he had loved.

She smiled softly at him and passed him one of the bowls of stew. He looked at it and sniffed it experimentally. He glanced up at her with a cocked 'eyebrow'. She shrugged and passed him a spoon.

Not a lot of people on the ship understood what kind of a man Davy Jones was. Some said that he wasn't one. Others said that he was cruel and unkind; an evil man who would no sooner cut you in half at a simple disagreement. Most of it was true, but during her years on the _Flying Dutchman_, Olivia had learnt that he was really a sad, tortured man, destroyed by the rejection of a woman. She had grown to understand him and even get know the real man under the barnacles.

She didn't love him; far from it, in fact she still feared him. But she did sometimes enjoy his company. When he was in a good mood.

This night he was in a good mood, considering what had happened earlier with Jack. It wasn't the first time that he had almost killed her.

Olivia sat at the map table, and ate a bit of the stew. Jones shuffled the maps about a bit before joining her. Olivia glanced up at him, choosing her words wisely.

"Captain," she started. "May I ask where we are heading next? After the _Pearl_ has been re-commissioned?"

Jones rose what some would refer to as an eyebrow. "We?"

Olivia looked up at him. "Us, sir. The crew. And the _Flying Dutchman_."

He looked at her sideways. "You mean you don't want to join the _Black Pearl_?" Olivia looked a little more than surprised.

She found her voice. "Sir, you would permit me?"

He shrugged. "I don't see why not," he said in his distinctive Scottish brogue.

Olivia was very surprised. What a twist! She thought that she would have to do a bit of convincing and haggling, maybe even a bit of arguing. But here he was, letting her go, with out her even asking first! What a blessing.

"Look, my dear," he said, putting his hands on his knees and leaning towards her a bit. "I'm sorry for wha' happened earlier. I truly am. A man in my position cannae tolerate disrespect."

"I don't disrespect you, sir," Olivia interjected. Jones nodded.

"I know, my dear, but Sparrow does. I know what ye feel for him, and I felt it once, too. In a way I am incredibly jealous." Jones stood and walked to the centre of the room. He turned to face Olivia. "You have become a fine officer, Olivia, a first-rate navigator and an excellent First Mate. The crew respect ye, and for a bunch of misfits like this, tha' is hard-won." He folded his arms over his chest. "I believe it is time for you to have a… rest."

Olivia could not believe what she was hearing. He was actually letting her join Jack! But, she thought, knowing Jones there had to be some kind of catch…

"I have the deepest respect for you, Olivia," he said as sat down at the map table again. "And I know that you can get the job done. I know I can trust you."

Olivia bobbed her head humbly. "Thank you, Captain; you flatter me."

Jones smiled. "However," he continued. "I need a bit of security. Insurance, one might say, that my property will remain unharmed in the hands of Sparrow."

Olivia froze in lifting a spoonful of stew to her mouth. This was not going to be good.

"I know that Jack is a good man. However, he is a pirate and we pirates only look out for Number One. And Sparrow is no exception." Jones dug in his stew for a moment. "I need to know that I can trust you to return my possessions. As you know, I need me 'art to survive and continue to sail this mighty ocean. And, protect it." He paused here and threw a glance at Olivia, as though daring her to counter his words. He heaved himself up again, and began to pace the large cabin.

"As you have noticed in your years since you joined my crew, I have a unique control over the sea beast. The Kraken knows my hull, knows the one who cares for it, feeds it. It knows the one who rescued it from the clutches of an evil man in a deadly region of ocean outside the safe confines of the Caribbean. However, were I to, say, die… my beastie would have no one to direct its jaws to. It would attack harmless crafts, passenger vessels and the such, and the oceans would be safe no more.

"I want to know that, once Sparrow and the Pearl find my 'art, that it will be returned to me, without delay." He stood, his 'hands' clasped loosely behind him, gazing at Olivia waiting for an answer.

Olivia was frozen, spoon now dropped into her bowl, staring at a spot on the table somewhere near India. She could hear the loaded threat behind Jones' words, and it sent a shiver down her spine. She loved the ocean, and cared for everyone who sailed it. Olivia was not a selfish person; she was honorable, gentle, but hardened by living her years by the sword. Had she not been a pirate and a man, she may have made a fine soldier. She thought about all those people that would die, should the Kraken be left without a master. Those innocent bystanders, travelers, sailors and merchants. The whole thing rested on the fact that she not let Jack destroy the Heart of Davy Jones. She knew in her heart that Jack would destroy it the second he got his hands on it, to assure that he and his precious ship were freed from Jones' bonds. She welcomed that thought because it would mean her freedom as well. But her mind turned to those innocent men and women and children, and the horror and terror that the seas would become. She knew that she couldn't let it happen. Not when she knew…

Olivia swallowed. "I will not fail you, Captain," she said in a small voice. Jones' smiled warmly. He stepped towards her and set his tentacled hand on her shoulder.

"Good, m'dear. Now, how 'bout a song before I nod off?" Olivia nodded numbly as he lay down on his massive, barnacle encrusted bed. She walked on slightly shaky legs to a small chair he had set next to the bed for such things. Olivia sat on the edge on the chair and selected a song from her memory, and sang a sweet song to Jones.

Before the song ended, Jones had closed his eyes, and had fallen into a light slumber. Olivia knew that he rarely slept very heavily, only lapsing into deep sleep when he played his heart-shaped locket. She finished the song, with a bit of soft humming, designed to lull him deeper into sleep, then stood quietly, gathered the bowls and headed back out into the hall. She deposited the bowls in the kitchen, and then headed to her cabin. She stripped off her coat and pulled back the covers of her bed. She extinguished the lantern that Bootstrap had set next to her bed and then climbed in under the covers.

She lay awake for hours afterwards, her mind swimming with images of tentacles, barnacles and death.

* * *

thanks to all those who have been reading so far. Cheers and here's the next chapter. Enjoy! 


	12. A Battle of Wills

**Title:** It's A Small World After All…  
**Author:** Drey'auc475  
**PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN 2: DEAD MAN'S CHEST  
****Rating:** T  
**Spoilers:** COTBP and DMC  
**Genre: **Action/Adventure/Romance  
**Setting:** After Dead Man's Chest  
**Summary:** Jack is in the service of Davy Jones, and once again surrounded by the Undead. He has to get Jones' Heart back, or loose everything he has… and has found once again.  
**A/N:** I LOVE JOHNNY DEPP and I love _Pirates_, but I shall never own them (BOO HOO!)

-----Chapter 12 – A Battle of Wills-----  
Faint morning light trickled through the grimy windows of the _Bellona_ and fell in soft detail on the sleeping form of Elizabeth. The soft light danced about her face, causing her to frown as it shone through her closed eyelids. Slowly she woke, opening her eyes and glancing about, wondering for a moment where she was. For a moment she thought she was home, in Port Royal. Then her memories caught up with her and she cringed and her stomach flipped with guilt. She bit back tears and rolled onto her back. She lay staring at the peeling paint on the ceiling for several minutes before she noticed a faint smell. It was the smell of old food. Stale bread and spicy soup.

She twisted her body to be facing the night table and saw the tray of food that Will had brought. It was hours old, and she guessed that he would have brought it sometime during the night.

The memories of the previous day washed over her and she felt the tears well up again. She shook them off and crawled out from under the covers. She poked a spoon at the stone cold stew and prodded the bread before turning her nose up at it. It was only then that she realized how hungry she really was.

Disappointed that she hadn't woken up earlier to enjoy the food and Will's company, she dressed and headed to the galley, hoping to see him at breakfast. It was still early, and only a few of the crew were present, including Barbossa and his monkey. She took a bowl and let Marty the Dwarf serve her this mornings porridge. She took a seat at a separate table away from the others.

Barbossa was sitting at a table with the other pirates, regaling to them how Tia Dalma had resurrected him after Jack killed him at Isla de Muerta. Elizabeth didn't really care. She still disliked Barbossa, as she should. She didn't like the fact that he was now their captain. Sure, she wanted to get Jack back, if only to make it up to him for what she did. But she didn't think that Barbossa was the man to take them there. She didn't really have a say in the matter any way. She knew that Will would have had something to say about it all.

She looked over at Barbossa's table as the others let out an owe-inspired gasp. Pintel and Ragetti were seated directly in front of their old captain, seemingly desperate to get back in his good books. Others milled about, joined now and then by more as they woke up and came to breakfast.

Elizabeth stood up and abandoned her barely eaten porridge and left the galley, unable to stand the sight of the pirates' admiring gazes as Barbossa told his tale. She needed some fresh air.

Once on deck, she leant against the railing in the same spot she was in the day before. She sighed and fiddled with the strip of cloth again. She looked about, wondering where Will was. It was still early morning, though she thought that he'd been awake by now. He wasn't anywhere to be seen on deck, and she hadn't seen him in the galley. She went below and knocked lightly on his cabin door. There was no answer. She pushed the door open and stuck her head in, softly calling his name. It was remarkably tidy and the bed hadn't been slept in. Elizabeth frowned. She had discovered since being engaged to Will, that though he was very organized in his workshop, he was very messy about his house. He never made his bed, hardly ever cleaned the dishes, and always wore the same clothes two or three days in a row.

She glanced around the room again, before closing the door and heading up on deck. She hurried about, bouncing off the crew, asking them if they had seen Will at all in the last few hours. All answers were negative. She began to panic.

What if he had left? What if he was gone? Or, what if he had fallen overboard? She doubted that last thought because she knew Will to be fairly sure-footed on the ocean. She looked about on deck, and spotted nothing out of the ordinary. Save for one of the longboats missing.

She walked over to it slowly, her mind not really in control of her legs. She saw the cut ropes, the abandoned pulleys. Something caught her eye, a piece of metal glistening in the early morning sun. She bent to pick it up. It was one of the buttons on Will's coat. Polished brass, heavy and carved with a tiny lily. She knew it because she had picked the coat out herself.

A sense of loneliness swept over her, and she felt the tears well up again. Without bothering to wipe them away, she dashed down to the galley again. She skidded to a stop in front of Barbossa and shoved the button under his nose. He looked at it, and then raised a bemused eyebrow at her.

"What, Miss Swann, are you tryin' to tell me with this here button?" he asked in a condescending tone.

"This is Will's," she said as though it explained everything. She looked about her at the blank faces. "I found it near the longboats!"

"Ahhh." A cruel smile crept onto Barbossa's face. "Young Mister Turner has abandoned ship, eh?" He chuckled. Pintel and Ragetti nervously began chuckling as well, but stopped at Elizabeth's Death Stare. "Well, Miss Swann," Barbossa drawled. "What do you want me to do about it?"

"I want you to turn the ship around and go find him!" she cried. Barbossa snorted and leaned back on his bench.

"Why, in the name of Mary Helen, would I do that?"

"Because –" Elizabeth paused. "Who?"

"Mary Helen." Barbossa said. He was met by Elizabeth's confused face. "She was the mother of a pirate named – Arrr! It doesn't matter who she was!" Barbossa bellowed. The other pirates snickered behind their hands. "Shuddup, the lot o' ya!" He took a swipe at Ragetti, who stopped laughing immediately. His wooden eye popped out and he dived under the table to retrieve it.

"The point is, Miss Swann," Barbossa said as he stood up from the table and took a step closer to Elizabeth, "if Young Mr Turner has decided to go get himself lost on the open ocean in naught but a long boat, well then that's his own bloody fault." Barbossa turned away from the table and set one foot on the stairs.

"But you have to go find him!" Elizabeth cried.

Barbossa swung about again. "Have to? Have to?" he chuckled cruely again. "Miss Swann, I ''ave to' do nothing! I don't answer to you! You aren't my captain. You're not even a pirate! And who ever heard of a woman as a pirate captain! Ha ha ha ha!" and he stomped up the stairs out of the galley.

"My aunt," Elizabeth whispered at the slamming door.

"What was that, Miss?" Gibbs asked as he came to stand at her shoulder.

She shrugged. "Nothing." She turned to him and her face lit up. "My Gibbs, you can help me find Will!"

"Ohh," Gibbs said. "I dunno 'bout that, miss."

"But please," she begged. "You must help me; I must find Will!"

Gibbs had never been terribly strong against little girls with big brown eyes. This same young lass once begged him to give her the last of the sour dough bread on the crossing from England, nine years ago, with those same big brown eyes. He hadn't been able to say no then, either.

True, Gibbs had nothing against Will, thought he was a top-notch sailor, but ultimately not a very good pirate. He had nothing against the lad and he didn't really want to see him 'give up the ghost' as they say.

Gibbs made a face before agreeing to help. He sat her down at the table and they made a plan

* * *

Late that night, when Barbossa finally abandoned the helm, Gibbs and Elizabeth crept along the deck. Gibbs helped her untie and lower the longboat down into the water. She had gathered a few necessities and she pushed away from the _Bellona_.

She waved goodbye to Gibbs and he sadly waved back. He could tell that she wouldn't last long on the open ocean, but he was not the one to stop her.

It was tough going for her. She wasn't as strong as Will and was having a tough time keeping the boat on course. But she rowed. And rowed, and rowed…

* * *

Still more to come...


	13. Seo Feng, Chef and Sailor of the High Se

**Title:** It's A Small World After All…  
**Author:** Drey'auc475  
**PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN 2: DEAD MAN'S CHEST  
****Rating:** T  
**Spoilers:** COTBP and DMC  
**Genre: **Action/Adventure/Romance  
**Setting:** After Dead Man's Chest  
**Summary:** Jack is in the service of Davy Jones, and once again surrounded by the Undead. He has to get Jones' Heart back, or loose everything he has… and has found once again.  
**A/N:** I adore Johnny Depp and I love _Pirates_, but I shall never own them (BOO HOO!)

-----Chapter 13 – "Seo Feng, Chef and Sailor of the High Seas!"-----  
The sun was just beginning to rise by the time Will dragged his skiff onto the deserted beach of a tiny island. He looked back over his shoulder to where he remembered the _Bellona_ being and saw great black storm clouds brewing. He had found this island by chance and was already planning to add to his skiff so that it could take him all the way back to Port Royal.

He dragged the boat further up the shore so it didn't get washed away at high tide and then headed for the tree line. Towering palms grew close together, some of the ones on the edge in danger of being pushed over by the others.

A chill crept down Will's spine as he recalled the island of Pelegosto where it was covered in dense forest like this. He opted to not venture into the trees. Instead he walked along the beach, looking for drift wood to start a fire to cook some of the food that he had brought.

He had walked a fair way along the beach, before he spotted smoke in the distance. He dropped his small pile of wood, and crept along the tree line closer to the smoke. He rounded a bend on the beach and saw a simple straw hut constructed at the tree line. Will glanced about the cabin, trying to see who lived there. There was no one about.

A rustling in the palms caught Will's attention. The chill returned as Will slowly turned towards the sound. He peered through the shadows to see what could be hiding there.

A second later, a huge shape came barreling out of the trees and knocked Will flat on his back. The shape let out a cry and sat itself on Will's chest. Will blinked into the bright morning light.

The 'creature' leant into Will's vision, and he saw that it was a man. The man, of eastern origin, peered at Will through slightly slanting eyes, prodding him now and then with a short stick. His long, black hair hung in his face, obscuring his vision. He kept flipping it back behind his ears.

"Oooo," the man crooned. He prodded Will again. "Oooo, food!"

Will's eyes grew wide as the man said this, instantly thinking of the cannibal island tribe. The man sitting on him prodded him again, and then picked a spec of dust off his coat and held it up to the sun. He gazed at it for a moment, before putting his fingers into his mouth. He withdrew his hand and licked his lips, seemingly savoring the taste of whatever he had picked off Will's clothes.

"Mmmm, mmm; roast lamb and 'taters with an onion base. Cooked for twenty minutes too long… and perhaps a splash of rum! Mmmm, delicious!"

Will blinked up at the exceedingly eccentric man with surprise; that was exactly what Gibbs had cooked for dinner the night before.

"Er," Will started. The man was beginning to become heavy on his chest and Will was finding slightly difficult to breath. "Excuse me, sir." The man looked down at Will, as though seeing him for the first time. "Do you mind getting off me?"

The man cocked his head to the side. He peered closer at Will then shouted out with joy. "Yes! Yes! You _is_ people! Goody! People talk and I love to talk! Come, follow me to the castle!"

The man jumped up and disappeared from Will's cone of vision. Intrigued, Will rolled onto his stomach and watched the man run towards the little hut on the tree line. The man disappeared into the hut and then reappeared, carrying a battered old kettle and a bag of dried herbs and plants.

Will wandered closer to the fire and took a seat, cautiously, on one of several boulders placed around the fire. The man picked herbs and leaves from the bag and began tossing them into a small amount of water in the kettle. Will also noticed him add a few strips of dried meat to the stew before the man set the kettle on an apparatus that was made of sticks roped together keeping the pot suspended over the coals.

Some minutes later, a fabulous smell was drifting from the pot and Will's mouth began to water. The man was talking to himself as he tossed more ingredients into the pot. Bits and pieces of words floated towards Will, who moved closer to the fire to hear him better.

"Oh, yes, Feng good cook. Feng cook for many people, and all _love_ Feng's cooking. All want more! So many more! Capt'n grows fat of Feng's cooking, oh yes. But food is oh so good!"

Will raised his eyebrow at the eastern man as he babbled. Will soon guessed that this man's name was Feng, and that he must have been here alone for far too long.

The man suddenly turned to Will. He stabbed a dirty finger at him. "You, boy, you like Feng's cooking?" he demanded.

Will blinked at him. "I've never tried your cooking." The man shook his head.

"No, no, no, no. Not _my _cooking. Feng's cooking!"

"Who is 'Feng' then?"

The man jerked his finger at his chest. "Me," he stated simply. Will raised his other eyebrow as well. He looked down at his hands, as he waited for Feng to finish his cooking. The man addressed him again.

"What your name, boy?"

"William Turner, sir."

"I be Seo Feng, chef and sailor of the high seas!"

"So, you're not a pirate?" Will blurted. The man cocked his head to the side, thinking for a moment.

"I ain't remember…"

"Oh." Will looked down at his hands as Seo Feng stirred the mixture. "Who was your captain?"

"Hmmm… man named Gei Dang. He like my cooking very much!"

"Yes, I've heard that." Feng turned to Will and smiled widely before returning his attention to the pot. Soon the mixture was frothing of goodness, and Seo Feng spooned it out into two bowls that were two halves of a coconut. He handed one of the halves to Will and began shoveling the stew into his own mouth with a crude spoon. Will dipped his spoon in and tasted it. It was hot, slightly spice, but very, very tasty.

They ate in silence for a while, Seo Feng helping himself to seconds after he finished his first bowl. A little while late, he spoke.

"So, boy," he said. "What be yous runnin' from?" Will had a little bit of trouble understanding what the man had said, and figured that he had not yet mastered the English language, or had spent so much time alone on this island, that he had forgotten how to talk to people.

Will cleared his throat. "Pirates," he replied.

"Ahhh," Seo Feng said. "I sees. One in particulars, or jus' zem all?"

Will stared into the depths of his bowl. "Jack Sparrow," he murmured, not expecting the name to mean much to the chef. He was quite surprised when the man nodded excitedly.

"Ah, yes! I knows him!" he cried. "He owed me much money, he did!"

Will raised his eyebrows again. "You knew Jack Sparrow?" Seo Feng nodded again as he heaped more stew into Will's bowl. "Well, I hate to tell you this then, but Captain Sparrow is dead."

Seo Feng stopped his movements. "Oh, a very shame, that is," he said. "But oh, well. Can't be helped, eh?"

Will frowned at this, sure that he wasn't expecting Seo Feng to act that way. True, he didn't think that Feng was a good friend of Jack's, so he didn't think that there'd be tears. Still, something about this oriental man bothered Will, but he just couldn't put his finger on it…

* * *

**AN:** Hey there. Sorry that this chapter has been a long while coming, but I'm not so good with dialogue and got stuck in the bog. There may be a few things that you guys don't agree with here, and I don't mind input. As long as its helpful input. By the way, this chapter, and many of the chapters to come, were written before I saw the trailer for the new movie, so please, no flames on the plot.

We get to meet Seo Feng here (played by Chow-Yun Fat). I know that he appears to be a bit of a delinquent here, but there is more to his character than I'm letting on. Won't reveal anymore, but there are more chapters to come. Please read and review.


	14. The Ship of Freedom

**Title:** It's A Small World After All…  
**Author:** Drey'auc475  
**PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN 2: DEAD MAN'S CHEST  
****Rating:** T  
**Spoilers:** COTBP and DMC  
**Genre: **Action/Adventure/Romance  
**Setting:** After Dead Man's Chest  
**Summary:** Jack is in the service of Davy Jones, and once again surrounded by the Undead. He has to get Jones' Heart back, or loose everything he has… and has found once again.  
**A/N:** I adore Johnny Depp and I love _Pirates_, but I shall never own them (BOO HOO!)

-----Chapter 14 – The Ship of Freedom-----  
Olivia was woken by a knocking on her cabin door. She groggily cracked one eye open and peered over the top of the covers. Seeing the sun shining in through the windows in horizontal slats, she groaned and dragged the quilt back over her head. The knocking came again, accompanied by a persistent rattling of the door knob. Olivia had locked it before she went to sleep.

She groaned again, and rolled out of bed. She dragged a hand through her hair messy and ragged hair before pulling back the curtain over the glass panel. Silhouetted there, was the messy dreadlocks, bandana and ivory bone of Jack.

She sighed, while smiling to herself, and grabbed the key from the chest and unlocked the door. Jack stood there, holding a bowl of porridge and as much bread as he could skillfully swipe. She smiled at the sly look on his face and let him enter. She gently closed the door after him.

Jack sat the bowl of porridge on the closed cover of the piano and patted the other end of the stool. Olivia stretched and took a seat with her back to the piano while Jack held out a spoonful of porridge for her. She eyed it carefully.

"Have you actually tasted that yet?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow at him. He frowned slightly at her, and raised the spoon to his nose. He pulled a face and leant away from it.

Olivia laughed at him, and bit off a large chunk of bread.

"So," Jack said, taking a swig from a rum bottle that he found on top of the piano. "What's on the agenda today?"

Olivia swallowed. "Well, there are lots of things to get done. I believe that there are sails to mend, ropes to splice, cannon's to be hauled, nets to be –"

"Wait a minute," Jack said. "Are you saying that I, _Captain_ Jack Sparrow, have to…. _mend sails_?"

Olivia rolled her eyes. "I know who you are, Jack, probably better than most people. And yes, I do. Unless you have a talent for cooking." Jack gave a defeated look. He was probably the worst cook known to mankind. When Jack was in the kitchen, things had a habit of going '_boom_'.

"It's going to be a hard day on you," Olivia warned. "There are hundreds of jobs to do before the _Pearl_ will be fit to sail. And I very, _very_ much doubt that the Captain will give you any kind of consideration. Be prepared to work the hardest you have in all your life."

Jack did not look very pleased at all at this. He tried to stall going above, until Bootstrap knocked on Olivia's door and told them that Jones was looking for them.

On deck, Jones set Jack to help with hauling the huge, black sails of the _Pearl_ aboard the _Dutchman_, and set him patching and mending the huge tears and rips that they had received during the attack. Jack was hunched over his own sails with a dozen of the mangled crew, with thick thread and three-and-a-half-inch-long needles while Burser, the henchman, looked on. Several times, Jack looked around to see what Olivia was doing, and got a sharp, painful blow to his shoulders from Burser. He tried not to look up, when she strode past, ordering several crewmembers who were hauling one of the cannons aboard. Jack noticed that they obeyed every order she barked, and completed them with haste and perfection. He smiled to himself. What a woman she had become…

Another blow landed on his shoulder again, and Jack hissed. He bent over his needle again and cursed loudly when he jabbed himself with it.

The day continued much like this. Jack repaired hole after hole, with volumes of black canvas that seemed to come from nowhere. The sun beat down on them, and at midday, rations and water was handed around. Jack was skipped entirely, and was very grateful when Olivia handed him a water skin. By sundown, most of the sails had been repaired, and were neatly folded below deck, awaiting the masts and the rest of the ship to be rebuilt.

By the time Burser called for supper, Jack was completely exhausted. It had been many, many years since he had worked so hard. Being the captain had come with its certain perks, and he had left all the hard work to his men. He didn't realize how hard it was for them…

Jack didn't bother going to the galley for food, though he had hardly eaten all day. Instead, he headed to Olivia's cabin, and fell, fully clothed onto her bed. Before he fell asleep (which was almost immediately), he breathed in deep, and was swamped by the scent of roses and rum, a smell that was unique to Olivia.

He was gently shaken awake several hours later. He opened his eyes, and immediately regretted it. Not that the view wasn't pleasant…

Olivia sat on the edge of the bed, with a platter of roast meat and a jug of rum. When she could see that Jack would need some persuading to get up, she set them to one side. She leant over him and touched his shoulder.

Jack rolled onto his back and hissed in pain as he felt his muscles bunch. He could feel the swell of bruising on his shoulders and his back felt as though he would never stand up straight again. His hands were stiff and sore, as were his forearms.

Olivia bent over him, concerned. "Jack? Are you alright?" He managed to shake his head.

"Hurts," he croaked.

"Where?"

"Everywhere…" Olivia took his hands and carefully examined them. His fingers were covered in red pin-pricks, from the all the times he jabbed himself, and there was a darkening indent in his index finger and thumb from the pressure he had applied on the needle in the effort to pull it through the thick canvas. His palms were inflamed, from the friction caused by the heavy thread.

She gently traced her fingers over the inflammations and the bruising. She then raised his hands to her lips and kissed all his fingers, as though it would make the pin-pricks go away. She looked up at Jack's face and saw that his eyelids where beginning to droop closed again. She leant in and kissed his forehead.

"It'll be easier tomorrow," she whispered to him. "I promise."

* * *

Jack woke the next morning, to extreme pain in his extremities, and severe cramps in his arms and back. He cursed as he tried to climb out of bed and ended up sliding to the floor.

There, next to the bed, was a jug of rum, and Jack drank as much of it as he could. He then sat on the floor and glanced about the room, noticing that it was empty.

A moment later, Olivia stuck her head in the door.

"Ah, you're up," she said.

Jack snorted. "Yeah, but I wish I wasn't." Olivia smiled slightly.

"Ready for more work?" she asked almost innocently.

"Only if tha' work required diggin' me own grave." She laughed.

"Something a little easier today: splicing ropes."

"Goodie," Jack replied sarcastically.

Olivia led him to the hold, where several of the crew were already cutting lengths of rope and splicing the two ends together. Olivia told Jack to sit and begin, while she went up onto the deck. Jack began his work, and had to admit that it was much easier on him. Jack found that he was quite good at splicing rope, having once had to do it for three days in a row on the very first ship he had been a cabin boy on. His captain had told him that he had to splice and mend approximately ten yards of rope. Jack had achieved it, but had collapsed off his chair by the end. Jack had gotten himself a half a keg of rum for completing his task.

Midday came and rations were handed out again, and this time Jack was included. He got a little less than his far share, but he didn't particularly mind.

A ruckus came from above them, and Jack heard Olivia's voice as she barked orders.

"Easy, easy! Lower her gently. Gently! Steady, now, steady!" There was a thundering crash that shook the ship slightly, the sharp crack of a cat-o'-nine-tails whip and the pain-filled cry of a crewman. "I said '_steady_', Hicks! What is it that you don't understand?! That is my angel there, you swine!"

Jack had no doubt as to what 'angel' Olivia was referring to. The thing that Jack remembered Olivia loving about the _Black Pearl _so much was the angel on the prow of the ship. She was fairly simple, any intricate features worn away by the ocean. She held a dove in her outstretched hand, both the dove and herself poised in flight. For Jack, she represented freedom.

Not long later the hubbub above quieted down and they all went back to work. Finally, the pile of rope became non-existent, and Jack stood and stretched. He made his way for the stairs that led to the galley, when a shadow filled them. It was Burser.

"You ain't finished yet, Sparrow," he said menacingly. "You're all needed on deck." Jack and the others followed Burser up the stairs and stepped out into the sun. His eyes were unaccustomed to the brightness, and he stumbled a little. Burser shoved him forwards and Jack stumbled back into the line. They were ordered to take up some lines that led over the deck and onto the partially completed foredeck of the _Pearl_. Jack stopped and stared at his beauty. She was almost complete. Large sections had been rebuilt, and she sat high in the water without the weight of a hundred crew and two dozen cannons. She was still magnificent as ever, even without her main masts. In fact, they were ready to be erected.

Jack heard the swish of a whip and, as quick as his reflexes would allow him, threw his arm up to deflect it. But he never felt it. Olivia caught the whip and yanked it from Burser's grip. He had been about to whip Jack for loitering. Burser looked away from Olivia, backed away, taking up the rope in Jack's place. Olivia stood next to Jack.

"There she is, Jack," she said softly. "Our _Pearl_; our ship; our freedom." Olivia gave the order and the first mast was raised. Slowly, inch by inch, foot by foot, the mast was raised to vertical. Crewmen on the newly built deck of the _Pearl_ secured the mast and completed the supports while the others held it upright.

"Don't ye need a shipyard to do this?" Jack asked.

"That's the advantage of having crustaceans as the constructors," Olivia replied. "They can build out here on the ocean where man normally can't breath underwater. They can see the leaks and repair them without even having to put the ship into a dry-dock."

"Ah. Neat." It took a while for the mast to be secured, and eventually the second mast was ready to be lifted. Three hours later, the two main and the stern masts were in place, secured and propped. Olivia left his side, ordering that seventeen yards of rope be rowed over before nightfall, ready for tomorrow when the crew would begin the rigging.

As the sun set behind the _Pearl_, Jack watched his ship as it rocked on gentle swells. His ship, his life, everything he had wanted in his life. When he and Bootstrap first commandeered her, he had no idea that she would bring him such happiness.

A figure stepped next to Jack and he looked over to see Bootstrap looking over at the _Pearl_ too. He glanced at Jack and smirked at him.

"What ye thinkin' of, Jack?" Bootstrap asked.

Jack shrugged. "Jus' thinkin' 'bout that first time we tried to steal 'er."

Bootstrap chuckled. "You mean the time that Olivia beat the pants off ye and we ended up in the brig?"

Jack didn't miss a beat. "Yep, that one. " Bootstrap chuckled again.

By this time, the lamps had been lit and dinner was called for in the galley. Olivia had disappeared after her last order and Jack saw no more of her that night. He sat with Bootstrap and they regaled old tails of years gone by.

It was very late when Jack finally went back to his cabin. Bootstrap told him that tomorrow was going to be another long day.

* * *

**AN: **And so, Jack and his fair ship are almost ready to set sail again. Please read and review, because I love the input. Ta.


	15. Name Your Price

**Title:** It's A Small World After All…  
**Author:** Drey'auc475  
**PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN 2: DEAD MAN'S CHEST  
****Rating:** T  
**Spoilers:** COTBP and DMC  
**Genre: **Action/Adventure/Romance  
**Setting:** After Dead Man's Chest  
**Summary:** Jack is in the service of Davy Jones, and once again surrounded by the Undead. He has to get Jones' Heart back, or loose everything he has… and has found once again.  
**A/N:** I adore Johnny Depp and I love _Pirates_, but I shall never own them (BOO HOO!)

-----Chapter 15 – Name Your Price-----  
Captain James Norrington. It did have a certain ring to it, Norrington thought as he donned his new tricorne hat. He studied himself in the mirror for a moment.

In an attempt to tidy himself up a little, he had tucked his new and pressed lily-white shirt into the waist band of his leather hide pantaloons. Even though he had refused to change his boots for anything else, he had trimmed his beard, but not shaved it off entirely, washed his hair and tied it back with a clean black piece of cloth. The only other things that were new and polished, were his coat, with its shiny brass buttons and gold trimming, his hat, and the belt that was across his chest which held his sword.

He had also refused to wear a wig and all the medals and pins that he had received as Commodore a few years ago.

Norrington was examining his old sword, which they had returned to him, when there was a knock on his door. He sheathed it with a slither of metal and pulled back the bolt on the door and opened it. He raised his eyebrow when he saw who it was.

"Ah, captain," Beckett said as he removed his hat. "Glad to see that you have tidied yourself up a little."

Norrington folded his arms, something he hadn't had the luxury to do when he was Commodore, and not because of the pins and medals. "What do you want, _sir_?" Norrington said. He was obligated to call Beckett 'sir' now that he had been re-commissioned by said lord.

Beckett had to look up at Norrington, so it was hard for him to be imposing. Instead he pulled a slight, quick smile, which was more of a grimace.

"I have need of your services," he said.

"Doing what?" Norrington asked.

Beckett looked up and down the hall outside of Norrington's apartment. "Perhaps we should talk inside."

Norrington stared at him for a moment, his face betraying nothing, and stepped aside to let the shorter man into his home. Norrington stood by the door as Beckett glanced around the fairly empty apartment. Most of his affects had been packed away but he hadn't felt the need to go find them.

"I have a job for you and your new ship, captain," Beckett said, facing Norrington. "A mission of sorts."

"Oh, please," Norrington drawled. "Keep me in suspense."

Beckett coughed into his hand and looked down at Norrington's boots. "Passage," he said looking back up at him. "Passage out of the Caribbean. Towards the north."

Norrington frowned at him. "There's nothing _to_ the north."

Beckett gave a half smile. "Oh, I believe there is. Have you not heard the tales of the seas to the north?"

"That they are treacherous, and that ships that venture there do not come back."

Beckett nodded. "Quite," he said. "I have a… delivery of sorts… to do there. I need you to take me."

Norrington narrowed his eyes at Beckett. "What kind of a delivery?" he queried.

"I'm not obligated to say."

"Oh, really?" Norrington turned and opened the door, standing aside. "Well, then I guess that you'll have to find alternate transportation."

Beckett sneered. "What if I can make it worth your while?"

Norrington stared down at the insufferable man. Norrington had never liked him, not even in his days back in England, when Beckett had been trying to weasel his way into Parliament. "How much?"

"Name your price, _captain_."

Norrington thought for a moment. "Four hundred." Beckett began to nod. "Before we depart. And another six hundred when we dock back here."

Beckett snarled again. "A thousand gold pieces!? You're mad!" Beckett charged past Norrington and into the hall.

"You said 'name your price'. I did. A dangerous mission, _my lord_, and I have a crew to consider." Beckett stopped and looked back at Norrington. "You can either pay me, or find another ship."

Beckett's eyes flashed. He stared at Norrington for a moment. "Be at the docks tonight," he hissed. "I will have a list of supplies that you will need delivered. I want to be gone by midnight." Norrington gave him a mock bow, before slamming the door in his face. Though James hated to admit it, but it seemed that he had picked up some things from Sparrow: insubordination… and greed.

* * *

Norrington watched as several of his crew carried boxes of spices, barrels of water and numerous other supplies aboard his vessel. Lieutenant Newman, his second in command, came to stand beside him.

"All the supplies are aboard, sir!" the young and inexperienced sailor practically shouted in his ear. "We're ready to sail."

Norrington cringed. "Not yet," he said.

"Sir?"

"We have a few passengers to cart with us." Norrington dug into his coat pocket and pulled out his pocket watch. It was old and battered, having once belonged to his father, Admiral Lloyd Norrington of the Royal Navy. Currently the time-piece showed fifty-three minutes past eleven o'clock.

Norrington had warned Beckett when he had delivered the list of supplies that he would not wait for him if he was late. The man had wanted to leave at midnight, and so Norrington would leave at that time, whether he had the _lord_ aboard or not.

Norrington snapped the case of the watch closed again and dropped it back into his pocket. He waited another three minutes and eventually saw Beckett's coach round the corner and come towards them. Newman immediately recognized the carriage and ordered the men to stand at attention as it pulled to a halt on the edge of the docks.

The porter stepped off the back of the carriage and opened the door. Out stepped Beckett and his manservant, Mercer. The porter and the coach-driver unloaded two chests off the roof of the carriage while the two 'esteemed' gentlemen made their way towards the _Nemesis_. Norrington felt his lieutenant tense as they approached but he, himself, remained relaxed and did not salute them.

"You're late," he said instead.

"Oh," Beckett said in a highly sarcastic manner. "I _do _apologise. Please, have your men load our things onto your… ship, captain."

And with that he brushed past Norrington and headed up the gang plank. It did not pass Norrington's attention, however, that the diminutive lord had a small chest that Norrington knew to contain the Heart of Davy Jones tucked protectively under his arm. At that moment, Norrington knew that this was _not_ going to be a pleasant voyage.

* * *

**AN: **I know that Norrington will have been made an Admiral in the up coming movie, but this is my opinion on what Norrington would behave like after he has been recomissioned. I believe that he has become too much of a 'bad boy' to truly go back to the way things were. I know he may seem too much like Barbossa at the moment, but belive me, he will be a _real _hero. Please review.


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